The Fourth Master of Anything Goes
by Pale Pilsen
Summary: *Follows after Full Circle* A story set several years in the future. Ranma is going on another training trip, but this time, he is the master. It is now time to come home.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_Death is an inescapable part of life. My early life has been, in a way, influenced by death. Master Happosai and Cologne sought to escape it. My father ignored it. I courted it once. All of us dealt it in one form or the other._

_I was raised to be a martial artist. If there was a curriculum that needed to be made for a martial artist in training, death would be an advanced course. Violence is our way. Many of my strikes could easily kill rather than injure. I destroy. Death could walk with us at any time._

_When I was younger and more naïve, I harped on and on about martial artists protecting the weak and other nonsense. I truly believed that my purpose in life was to look after the welfare of others. I realize now how misguided I was. Life is rarely that simple._

_Martial artists protect the weak, yes. But martial artists are human too, and humans are, by nature, weak. The fact is, martial artists first and foremost protect themselves. The important thing for a martial artist is to look for something important, something to balance pride and greed which can be found within them. Too much at one end could destroy that balance. Upset that balance, and misfortune follows._

_For me, that counterbalance is family. I have never considered myself particularly good or fair, if anything, I tend to be self absorbed and too cocky for my own good at times. I cannot imagine how I would have turned out if the many events in my life had not tampered with those shortcomings of mine._

_I try and overcome them, of course. I have even managed to convince many of those around me that I have managed to outgrow those impulses. It's still there, in the deepest recesses of my mind, whispering. I still believe those voices, most of the time. _

_Although…_

_I remember, as I looked upon my son walking beside me as we headed to Tokyo, I felt more than a bit humbled. Children are a huge responsibility. What I teach them, mistakes committed without thought, how I act, they can and will affect how my children grow up. Look at it from a larger perspective and one can see that there are a lot of lives being potentially affected by ones decisions._

_Morals are important, and I have struggled very hard to impart that lesson to my son. That movie many years ago had it right, power does come with a great deal of responsibility. It is my greatest…concern, as a parent, to teach my children how to control their impulses. _

_How do I nurture those morals? Where do I start? I honestly had no idea when I began this journey._

_I was therefore content to leave my son at the same starting point as I did, many years ago. _

"_The martial artists duty is to protect the weak". _

_That is not the whole story, of course, and I knew that my son will eventually learn that the saying is but the tip of the iceberg. I have since watched him struggle with the limitations of that creed. I watched and did nothing, for I knew that it was something that he had to do for himself. He needed to grow. He needed to define himself. And in the end, I thought he did a pretty good job. _

_For the first few years for his training trip, I have tried very hard to insulate him from situations that required him to confront that creed. He needed to learn to obey before anything else. I was placing a lot of power in his hands, prudence required me to take control of that power before setting him out in the world. _

_The first few years were dedicated to learning the basics. Basics in terms of anything goes standards, that is. I pushed him hard, I pushed him as close to the limit as possible. I was determined to minimize the time away from home. As soon as he had the basics done, we could go home. I could finally be with my wife. We could start on being a complete family again. My son could finally have a shot of being a normal child some of the time. _

_I rationalized this behavior by saying that the world was changing. Martial artists could no longer stand away from the rest of society. I looked back at my difficulties as a teen, at how difficult it was for me to make sense of the world in this first few months. Sometimes, I even managed to convince myself sometimes. _

_The truth was, I knew that I had other responsibilities. No, the truth is, I have a selfish desire. I wanted to work on giving Tsuruko a child to mold. I wanted a sense of normalcy. I ended up giving Tsuruko two more children…both females. Mother was very happy. _

_I had given in to my selfish wants, and had an epiphany._

_Being selfish once in a while is ok._

_It was hard work, expanding my family, being a husband and father, and continuing my sons training. My son took many more years to train after the birth of our first daughter. We still had to leave for months at a time, occasionally, but it is a point of pride for me to be there to be able to raise my daughters. _

_When my son was ready to make his way out into the world alone, father and I amused ourselves by watching Tsuruko and mother train my daughter. More than once, we were sorely tempted to intervene. But it was their turn, their journey to follow. _

_After being away from years from them, it was the least we could do. _

_I fear I have strayed away from the original topic. Forgive me, I tend to easily get lost when reliving my old memories. Where were we… Tokyo, yes._

_Anyway…_

**Chapter 1. **

It was a beautiful day to be out. The sky was clear, but the oppressive heat of the sun was blocked by a lazy layer of clouds. Beside me walked my son. It was the perfect weather to come home to.

It has been three years since we have been home, and my son was looking forward to meeting his mother. I was too. It was finally time to return home to our family.

The plan was three years away from home to school my son on the basics of the school. Three years to teach him to be obedient. Three years to instill in him the proper mindset of the school. Our three years are almost up, just one more test before we begin a new chapter.

The time away was short in comparison to my own training trip, but it seemed like a was gone for a lifetime. I missed my family terribly, the frequent letters from home made it barely tolerable.

The sensation of a bird alighting on my shoulder brings me out of my musings. Hiruzen, my familiar, was given to my care on my last visit to the phoenix tribe. He is my badge of office, my personal messenger, and occasionally, my eyes and ears. He is also my link to my wife and the rest of my family. Shippo, Hiruzen's mate, watches over Tsuruko.

A message is tied to his leg, a message from Tsuruko. Beside me, my son tries to look uninterested as I remove the message. I'm not fooled by his charade one bit, it hasn't been too long ago when it was I who tried to mask my feelings.

"She's waiting for us at Hinata," I tell him.

"Oh, reall-," he tries to get out, trying to maintain his mask of disinterest.

I didn't give him the chance to even start his pretend disinterest. I have heard it often enough for the past few months.

"Three hours. One, If we hurry." I point towards a distant hill, "That way."

Wordlessly, he starts moving in the correct direction, still trying to keep the disinterested air around him. I still remember what it was like being ten. He was trying to act like an adult, acting like seeing his mother after almost three years wasn't a big deal.

Unconsciously, I couldn't help but form a sad smile on my face. In a few more years, he would be acting more and more like an adult, In a few more years, the child I raised would change. I suddenly wished Tsuruko would be here to share this with me.

With a burst of speed, I pushed ahead of my son.

"Is that all you have to show after three years?" I ask, tauntingly, "Your grandfather will be so disappointed. I knew three years wasn't enough!"

The words are routine by now, but the words still have the desired effect. Slowly, he catches up to me. When he finally manages to keep pace, I give him a light slap on the back that almost sends him reeling.

"Lets go home, son".

My son seemed surprised, and I pretended not to notice the smile that he tried to prevent from blossoming on his face as he struggled to keep pace. "Thanks Dad," he whispered.

We were coming home.

*****

It wasn't an easy courtship.

When I was in Nerima, I fully expected to get married to one of the girls. I thought I had until high school ended before I would be forced to choose one of them. I never expected to go to college unmarried, I never in my wildest dreams thought that I would be the last person to settle down.

In the end, all that was needed to solve the fiancée dilemma was time away from each other. I managed to secure a spot, at the insistence of my mother and to the surprise of many, to Kyoto Imperial University. For a variety of reasons, the rest of the gang remained in Tokyo. Ukyo decided for forgo college and focus on her business, Akane and Kodachi got places in some university in Tokyo, while Shampoo had to go back to China in a few months.

Within two years after I started college, Kodachi was married and had a baby, Shampoo was forced to take more and more of her grandmothers responsibilities and was therefore forced to stay in the village, Ukyo was seeing someone else, while Akane—we drifted apart.

I wasn't entirely displeased at how things turned out. Time away from each other had allowed us to grow up a little, we were a little more secure in who we were and managed to come to terms with what we wanted out of life. Love and companionship was never in my plans at that point, but I couldn't help but feel left behind.

My old life was gone, and it felt like I was the only one who hasn't moved on.

That sense of (false) abandonment is probably what made me go back to the familiar lure of life on the road. Whenever I had free time I would go to traveling the countryside. I didn't go as a martial artist seeking to challenge dojos all over the country, rather, I went as a simple traveler enjoying the sights.

Upon finishing college, I found myself taking the reigns on the family business. It was an unexpected development, but it gave me a lot of time to train and travel. The nature of the family business required that I maintain ties with many of the old families, and I was often forced to meet with many of them.

A good portion of my first years on the job was spent traveling the country in introducing myself to many people. It was more fun that I thought. It gave me the opportunity to practice tea ceremony, calligraphy, and a myriad of other traditional skills. I managed to form a lot of friendships that I continue to maintain to this day, and, more importantly, it gave me a sense of belongingness. I found my self of purpose.

As I grew comfortable with the business, I found myself meeting people that I could trust. Employees that eventually become friends. As time passed I found that I could delegate my of my tasks. Eventually, I found myself with a lot of free time on my hands That gave me time to think, and made me realize the empty feeling in my chest. I had found a semblance purpose in life, now I wanted to share myself with someone.

There were a couple of matchmaking attempts. I vaguely recall the details of those attempts, I do recall that nothing came of them. None of the women had that special something to catch my interest. They were too normal.

When I was 25, I decided to go on a trip. At that point my mother was becoming quite concerned at my continued unmarried state. I understood her concerns, the longer I delayed in finding a bride, the wider the sense of detachment I felt from my potential brides. I had already destroyed the reputation of several matchmakers, my time was running out.

I went to Kyoto to clear my head and seek guidance from a number of older friends. I had several acquaintances who were happily married despite being matched in an arranged marriage. I needed to get my doubts out of my head.

I had been convinced to give an arranged marriage on more try, and set to return to Tokyo on the next day. I was enjoying the scenery of Kyoto, revisiting old haunts when I met her.

Aoyama Tsuruko.


	2. Chapter 2

Its funny how things in life all seem connected. Life can bring you to several unexpected directions, yet continues to surprise you several years down the line by showing that you haven't really gone that far after all. Its like finding out, at your retirement party, that the friend you met at work when you just starting out had lived a few houses down from you when you were at primary school. It's a strange feeling, and it happens more often than we like to admit.

Hinata inn was one of those places. And I was more than a little surprised that this was where Hiruzen was apparently leading us. The inn looks like its barely changed since the last time I was here. 'What past did Tsuruko have with this place?,' I couldn't help but wonder. Life really was funny like that.

It would be an interesting topic to bring up with her later. For now, it seemed like my son was starting to get impatient. When it comes to venues for long awaited reunions, Hinata inn is not one of the places that comes to mind.

"Father?," my son, Saotome Hideki, eventually asks, "Is this the place?"

"Hmm," I wondered. My memories of the place are hazy, and the facts that I recall are several decades out of date. From what I have observed on this section of the town so far, nothing seems to have changed, and, if my memory is to be believed, nothing else lies beyond the inn.

Hiruzen, still perched beside me, chirps happily as if in confirmation, before taking to the air. I follow his path over the steps. He soars into the sky, circles around, before descending towards the figure that stepped out of the crest of the hill.

*****

Tsuruko was 14 when I first met her. Fourteen and ready to follow in the footsteps of the old masters of her school. A great accomplishment.

It was a nice Sunday, and I decided to accept the invitation to visit the home of a family that had been introduced to a few months back. It was intended to be nothing special, an ordinary dinner between allied families. As successor to the Saotome family, I was being slowly eased in into taking part in more and more of these functions.

The Aoyoma compound was located near the base of the mountains of Kyoto. In our original training trip, we visited a few masters and paid tribute to the fallen warriors of old. Kyoto had a long and interesting history, and I spent the walk to the Aoyama home enjoying the scenery and thinking back to those battles of old.

Surprisingly, I found myself not minding these visits at all. The tradition and ceremony that I have always abhorred as a child now brought me comfort. The rest of the world was often alien, constantly changing, but here I felt familiar. I felt at home.

I didn't really know much outside the world of the martial arts. Understanding of popular culture, even after living normally for several years, still eluded me. The actions of people in my age group didn't make sense.

Tsuruko was there. Young and full of herself. I must not have made much of an impression on her, since I barely rated a glance. Now if there's one thing thats sure to get a rise out of me, making light of my skill would definitely rank somewhere in the top three. I was the fourth master of anything goes! The youngest to be granted the title! Rivalry with the other practitioners was one thing, even the most bitter rival respected your abilities to some degree, but to be dismissed as unimportant…by a novice of all people.

It was a first. I have been talked down to before, my skills judged worthless or inadequate. It used to happen quite often when I was younger. I often proved them wrong, even if some of the time it took a while. It's hard to explain, but there was always this feeling of acknowledgement, an understanding that it was the skills that were being judged and not the person. There are exceptions, of course. Some people take things too personally, and there are others who can't look beyond out past history, but most of the time, relations between the practitioners of different schools are congenial.

At our first meeting though, it has been a while since I last had to prove myself to anyone. But even before I was granted mastery, I have always approached fights as more than a contest of skill. At their core, the fights were about three things: skill, learning, and status. Fights were one to see who the better fighter was, to learn and gain experience, and to settle the role of "sensei."

Family connections with other like minded families are maintained to keep the martial tradition alive. It allows us to continue to learn new things from outside the confines of our families' art. Visiting masters are always treated with respect and a certain degree of deference. These visits weren't about establishing the families position in the hierarchy of the martial arts practitioners, it was about imparting knowledge. There are certain unspoken rules to be followed on visits between families such as ours. Traditions and forms that need to be followed, and as much as it chafed my pride to be dismissed as just another visitor, I had to let it go. It wasn't my last visit to the Aoyama's, but it would be the last time I would see Tsuruko for a while.

I didn't realize it at that time, but it turned out I grossly overestimated Tsuruko's knowledge of our world. By the time my father and I started our training trip, I already knew about these rules. Tsuruko, it turned out, had never been briefed on that aspect of our families' relations until she was a few steps away from attaining her mastery.

It should be noted that not all martial schools are equal. There is a hierarchy of sorts that separates us from the more widely known disciplines like Judo or Karate. While mainstream disciplines have their own niche to fill, how we view the application of our art is totally different. Mainstream martial arts see themselves as teachers, imparting skills to all who ask. We see ourselves as protectors of ancient knowledge, relentless guardians sworn to preserve the purity of our art. There are secrets buried in the history of our families' art, secrets whose protection is entrusted to those who have been proven worthy. Tsuruko, it seemed, wasn't there yet.

Our next meeting wouldn't occur till many years later. By then I had finished college and was occupied with the family business. It was a busy time for me, getting to know the ins and outs of the business. Unfortunately, it was a busy time for my mother as well. She was determined to marry me off and start a family. Several matchmaking attempts failed to bear fruit for a number of reasons, and she was starting to get worried. I was nearing 25 and my continued single status was starting to drive my mother to desperation.

Tsuruko was different.

As far the introductions went, meeting adult Tsuruko was most ominous. It was, compared to previous "first" meetings, strangely normal.

*****

Nine months after my 24th birthday, I went on a business trip to Kyoto and my mother attempted to arrange another marriage meeting.

Ironically, the arranged marriage was the least exciting occurrence. I have endured several of those over the years, and I have almost resigned myself to living the rest of my life devoid of lifelong companionship. It wasn't that I was unpopular with women. On the contrary, the number of interested ladies only increased once word came out that I was "available." Strong women have always seemed interested in me, and sometimes I wonder if this was another contest to it love? Or was I a challenge to be overcome? Regardless of the motives behind their interest, none of them have managed to catch my eye.

The second event was a regular occurrence. I have gotten used to it, I have my Kyoto routine down pat. I spend the night at the usual hotel before conducting business at the earliest possible time. When that is done, the rest of my stay is spent wandering the city and visiting old haunts. I make it a habit to visit one acquaintance before staying the night at the hotel and leaving the first thing in the morning.

For this visit, business was concluded earlier than usual and I found myself wandering back to the university. Coincidentally, the school festival was in full swing.

School festivals are curious traditions. Relatively recent, as far as traditions go, but widely accepted as part of the current norms. For students, it is an opportunity to showcase their interests and earn funds for future activities. For alumni like us, it's an opportunity to visit old haunts, catch up with favored professors, and meet up with old friends.

I'm not a regular at these kinds of gatherings, and I certainly wasn't the most active at these sort of activities back when I was a student, but my unique upbringing and sundry skill set in the traditional arts ensured that I was welcome to a variety of clubs with traditional leanings.

Attending school festivals with students several years my junior isn't something that I usually find myself doing, but, for some reason, I found myself in a nostalgic mood and decided to indulge myself in the sights, sounds, and the festival food.

It happened sometime after the third yakisoba or the fourth serving of takoyaki. I was feeling a bit parched and decided to go for some tea when I bumped into a woman and caused her to spill some of the tea she was imbibing into her kendo-gi.

Looking at Tsuruko now, its hard to imagine that the events I am relaying happened more than a decade in the past. Little has changed with Tsuruko physically, and I know more than one person who has expressed amazement that my wife of many years is a mother of two.

What happened next is, as they say, history.

*****

How does one describe the feeling of falling in love?

It starts, of course, with infatuation.

I have never believed in love at first sight. I don't even know if I have ever been in love before. I have, however, been infatuated several times. I may even have been something more than that with several women back when I was in Nerima. But love? I really can't say.

My heart doesn't remember much when it comes to those days. The heaviness that I carried with me when I first came to Kyoto has abated. Nowadays, I prefer to look back on the happier memories. Akane's smile. Kodachi's childlike naiveté. Shampoo's zest for life. Ukyo's friendship.

I liked the attention. After travelling the road for several years, being the object of that kind of desire was a wonderful feeling. I was suddenly thrust into this world where people shared my interest in the arts, rivals came and went, and all of a sudden all the things I learned for the past year settled into something tangible. I was alive!

It wasn't to last. First impressions are not enough. I realize now that infatuation without the proper foundation will never go anywhere. Life eventually went on for everyone. My heart was closed, but it would be reopened.

It came as quite a shock to me later on. I spent the rest of the day at the festival with Tsuruko, vainly trying to convince her to let me pay compensation for the stained dogi. I said my goodbyes before we went our separate ways. It wasn't until later when the realization suddenly hit me—I wanted to see her again.

Things, of course, rarely happen easily.

I realized the potential… now what?

There were several things that bothered me. The least important one was the age difference. Me being several years older than her wasn't that unusual, but the fact that she was a college student did. I honestly felt that I was cradle robbing. I tried denial first.

'Nothing was going to happen. The longing to see her would eventually pass,' I think I told myself that night at the hotel.

'I'll just deliver this new dogi as replacement and forget about this whole thing,' I silently vowed. Ignore the fact that that I delayed my return trip back for a whole day and spent most of the morning looking for a dogi replacement. Also ignore the fact that I suddenly had urgent business in Kyoto that I had to personally attend to not more than a month later.

I came across complication number two when I visited the Aoyamas after concluding another 'urgent' business in Kyoto. Another suitor. I saw red.

My heart literally clenched when I saw him waiting on Tsuruko. He was another disciple of the Shinmeiryu and obviously felt something for the school's heir. It was a… challenge, seeing him close to her, vying for her attention. I recall trying to reign in my anger. To keep myself from doing something to show up that student. It was not one of my proudest moments. I managed to restrain myself, but knowing that I allowed myself those thoughts still weighs on me.

After that disaster of a visit, I then tried rationalizing to myself that it all didn't matter. I barely knew Tsuruko, after all. He would be good for her, and the Shinmeiryu would get to keep its heir. It wouldn't be any good anyway, I had good relations with the family, why jeopardize it for something like this? I was too old. Only Happosai would go out chasing schoolgirls. I'll stay away, and when I finally purge myself of this feeling, I'll find a nice girl my age and marry her.

I then spent the rest of that year avoiding having anything to do with Kyoto. Even the thought of the place invariably drew my thoughts to her. I couldn't even look at another woman without thinking of her. Life suddenly seemed bland.

It was unacceptable.

'I was Ranma Saotome! I am not some love struck idiot incapable of mastering my own desires. I will fight this head on.'

I eventually decided to confront the problem head on. I went to Kyoto with the intent of ending things once and for all. I never really allowed myself to consider that Tsuruko felt anything towards me at that time. It was impossible. I was discrete. I acted as nothing more than a friend to the family that foolishly allowed himself to entertain thoughts of a future with a younger woman. They wouldn't have to know anything was ever amiss. It was my burden. I went there to settle things with myself and move on.

I psyched myself up on the way. I would go there, greet her cordially while internally sticking a knife into my heart. I will spend the day with them… and tear out anything within me that even hoped to dream at anything with her.

Walking up the mountain finally lifted the heavy fog that plagued me for the past several months. It was finally going to end, I realized. I suddenly has an epiphany on how beautiful that mountain was. I drank it all up, savored it, immersed myself in the feeling like a man eating his last meal.

As the walls of the compound grew nearer, I clung to that feeling.

'I will remember things like this,' I vowed. I crossed the threshold.

It took some time before I finally got to see her, but when I did… the expression on her face made my earlier resolve evaporate. It was… breathtaking.

And I finally allowed myself to hope.

_Next chapter:_

_I turned to a tried and true method… I arranged an engagement._

AN.

That chapter took a while. I have several more pages finished up but decided to end the chapter at this point to finish things up properly.

A lot of errors in the tenses and stuff, but I decided to write things as is anyway. I wanted to tell a story… to he** with proper writing technique.

In response to one of the comments regarding Ranma's flaws… I get what your saying. This is written from Ranma's POV so its very biased.

As for the curse, well, I don't agree. I think what makes Ranma unique is his struggle with the curse and how he doesn't let his condition define him. I honestly don't intend to focus on that aspect much. This story is about Ranma, Tsuruko, and their family. I do have a 'resolution' to the curse, but that doesn't get mentioned until the end of the story. Fans of Onna!Ranma will not like it.

Thanks for reading. Any comments are always welcome.


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